


To Be Angelica Hamilton

by angelica_barnes



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, F/M, Fantasy, as in she's imagining things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 01:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica_barnes/pseuds/angelica_barnes
Summary: what goes through angelica's head when she toasts at her sister's wedding.and then it's not her sister's wedding. it's hers.





	To Be Angelica Hamilton

 

       Angelica Hamilton is the wife of the - how you say, infamous? He is, but he is also famous for good reasons, so I suppose - famous Alexander Hamilton. She spends endless hours listening to her husband’s loud mouth spout information about his latest political pursuits. She nods and smiles to everything he says, regardless of whether she understands. It is important to him, therefore, it means something to her.

       Angelica Hamilton notices her sister’s face every time she sees Alexander, the way she smiles with crinkles at the corners of her eyes. Eliza was promised in marriage to another man, but Angelica knows she doesn’t love him. Eliza loves Alexander just as much as Angelica does; the difference is, he isn’t her husband. Angelica feels sorry for her sister, but isn’t willing to give Alexander up.

       Angelica Hamilton is satisfied with her life, with her husband. Their family grows steadily, and every time she kisses him, she is aware of her sister’s crumbling face. However, Eliza cannot have him, and it hurts, if it hurts Eliza, then it hurts Angelica. But she can’t let go of Alexander, she loves him too much. And he keeps her satisfied.

       Angelica Hamilton met him on a hot night, they were at a revel with the young rebels from the fastly growing Revolution. He was brave and reckless, witty and flirtatious, perfect, but not. Eliza fell for him the moment she saw him, as did Angelica, but only one could have him. The penniless man had clearly fallen for both of them, but he could only have one as well.

       Angelica Hamilton cries when she reads the Reynolds Pamphlet. It breaks her heart, it breaks Eliza, and she feels pain like before but tenfold. She closes her eyes every night but never sleeps, afraid of the images; the dancing woman in red that has infuriated with her husband. Then she watches her son die in front of her, nothing she can do, the blood running from his wound turns cold and won’t wash off her hands. So she just kneels on the floor and stares at the wall blankly as everything inside her falls apart.

       Angelica Hamilton reads his last letter, Ever Yours, Alexander on the day of his death. He never told her, of course, that he would be dueling Aaron Burr, nor did he mention the fact that he would shoot towards the sky, which she is sure he planned in advance. She sobs over his body, Eliza by his other side. At least he is reunited with his Dear Laurens, as he called his former lover.

       Angelica Hamilton stands at his grave and places flowers down. She buries her sister very close to him, but reserves the plot next to him for herself, which part of her hopes she’ll fill soon. She raises her children to adulthood and founds a private orphanage in New York City. She stays there until she dies, on her deathbed, children surrounding her, Alexander’s hand outstretched towards her and eyes wary with exhaustion. But he’ll wait, I can’t wait to see you again, flits through her mind, her final thought as she leaves this world.

       Angelica Schuyler raises a glass and swallows all doubts, pushes away all thoughts, and breaks her own heart in this one moment. “To the bride!” And Eliza takes Alexander’s hands and lets the blush spread across her cheeks as Alexander smiles at her so lovingly it makes Angelica sick. They kiss, in this one fatal moment, and Angelica feels her heart crack cleanly in half. She blinks to fight the tears that threaten to spill, takes a shuddering breath, and smiles a strained grin, hoping no one else can see her pain.

       Because this is her sister’s day. Her sister’s life. Her sister’s husband. Because there never was an Angelica Hamilton, with the exception of one of Alexander and Eliza’s children.

       Angelica Hamilton is merely a figment of her imagination.


End file.
